“A mill will be on every streamlet, A plough in every boy’s hand, The two sides of Loch Tay in kail gardens; The sheep’s skull will make the plough useless, And the goose’s feathers drive their memories from men.”[83] This was to happen in the time of “John of the three Johns, the worst John that ever was, and there will be no good till Duncan comes.” A stone called the ‘Boar Stone’ (_Clach an Tuirc_), a boulder of some two or three hundred tons in a meadow near Loch Tay, will topple over when a strange heir comes to Taymouth, and the house will be at its height of honour when the face of a certain rock is concealed by wood. CHAPTER XI. IMPRECATIONS, SPELLS, AND THE BLACK ART. IMPRECATION (_Guidhe_). The imprecations, which form so important a part of the vocabulary of thoughtless and profane swearing, are in Gaelic corruptions of English expressions. Thus, one of the commonest—_diabhul Mac-eadhar_ is a corruption of ‘devil may care,’ and though no language has a monopoly of oaths and curses, and English is not always to blame, it is some satisfaction that needless profanity is not entirely of native growth. Most Gaelic imprecations are mere exclamations, condemnatory not so much of the person himself as of what he is saying or doing. Of these the following are of common use: A bad meeting to you! (_Droch còmh ’l ort!_). A bad growth to you! (_Droch fàs ort!_). Bad understanding to you! (_Droch ciall ort!_). Bad accident to you! (_Droch sgiorram ort!_). Bad —— ? to you! (_Gum bu droch drùileach!_ or _drùthalach dhuit!_). Black water upon you! (_Bùrn du ort!_).[84] A down mouth be yours! (_Beul sìos ort!_).[85] A wry mouth be yours! (_Beul seachad ort!_). Go to your grandfather’s house! (_Tigh do sheamar dhuit!_). The mischief be in your side! (_An dunaigh ad chliathaich!_). The burning of your heart to you! (_Losgadh do chridhe ort!_). Little increase to you! (_Beagan piseach ort!_). Little prosperity to you! (_Beagan àidh ort!_). The spell of your death-stroke be yours! (_Sian do ghonaidh ort!_). Death without a priest to you! (_Bàs gun sagart ort!_). Wind without rising be yours! (_Gaoth gun dìreadh ort!_), _i.e._ a wind that will throw you on your beam-ends, and not allow you to right. Your black certain death-stroke to you! (_Sàr du do ghonaidh ort!_). The place of the dead be yours! (_Marasg, i.e. marbh-thasg, ort!_). The number of Friday be yours! “The curse of Friday be yours!” “The end of the seven Saturdays to you!” May you be late! (_Gu ma h-anamoch dhuit!_). The direction in which you turn the back of your head, may you never turn your face! (_An toabh bheir thusa cùl do chinn, gar an d’ thig an t-aon latha bheir thu t’ aghaidh!_), etc., etc.